


the fault in our gov't

by quillink



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, M/M, The Purge AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:11:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillink/pseuds/quillink
Summary: the purge auwhere sirius unexpectedly ends up on the street and someone saves himwhere remus is trying to find his dad and rescues a damsel from psychopaths





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hello im trying a thing
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> this is unedited. ill get back to it when its all done
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> also this is unfinished and i hope i finish it quick

“Do not forget your lessons, and as always, I will see you after the two week break,” Mcgonagall stared at them intently, scanning the room, as if memorizing, probably thinking not everyone will return as they are. Her eyes were hard, lips set in a thin line.

The Purge was that night, and as usual, they were dismissed early to prepare. After that the headmaster created their own holiday break–because the government had yet to announce one–for everyone to heal.

“Please, be careful. Know your choices,” With a few reminders, she dismissed the class, and the sound of chairs scraping tiled floors, and the hushed chatter of students filled the room.Among the throng of students–some obviously tense and apprehensive, others in excited vigor of what was to come, and those in between who’d rather pretend the event didn’t exist–was wealthy enough to be able to–Sirius remained seated, his chin on his palm. His pensive eyes were fixed on someone a row to his right, two seats in front of him.

The back of Remus Lupin’s head was quite lovely, as the rest of him usually was. Sirius was taken with the way the soft hair fell, as Remus bent down to gather his things, one of the only students who bothered to take out their notes to actually study on the day of The Purge. Sirius had maybe, five conversations with him in total. The first was in First year, where Sirius greeted him, and he politely greeted back. It was uneventful, but with meaning, because that probably meant they were friends, in a way, and Sirius found that the people in his new house were better than those he met at family gatherings.

The next four conversations were in the year next, when they were assigned a pair work in maths. And that was it. But Sirius thought they had a connection, probably, because after that, whenever something funny happened in class they’d coincidentally look in the other’s direction and share a smile. Sure he hadn’t had a decent, getting-to-know-you chat, but he knew he liked the lad, for his cheeky comments that Sirius overheard him say, that had the black-haired boy snickering, and the way he recited in classes, in detail but not showing intimidation, even though everyone knew he was smart. He kept to himself, but he helped those struggling in lessons, and he was good at it.

 

Sirius pretended he didn’t know all these details about Remus, and pretended he didn’t feel faint when Remus had a growth spurt entering sixth year. Sirius pretended that he didn’t blush every time their eyes met, or when he catches himself staring. He was probably getting obvious.

Remus turned slightly to his left to pick up a pen, and Sirius’ gaze fell on an old scar that ran from his nose bridge to his ear, one that first made an appearance after the two-week purge holiday from third year, along with a plethora along his chest and back when Sirius got a guilty eyeful of him during Phys Ed. Sirius knew Remus was not very well-off, from the boy’s worn-down clothing and ratty backpack, and he also knew people who were not well-off were the usual targets of psychopaths with raging hostility.

So Sirius’ stomach was filled with a heavy weight, watching Remus get ready to leave. 

Remus turned to him, and their eyes met. Remus gave a small smile, like he always did, and Sirius felt like his chest was being compressed, leaving his breathing labored; he smiled back, trying to be more sure of himself, telling himself he’d see him after two weeks, like he always did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ur j**a, pls dont read this,

“This is not a test.” Sirius heard the broadcast, from somewhere in the house. He didn't want to stand up from his cocoon of blankets. No place felt truly safe on these nights, much less## at his own home, where he’ll get to hear the agonized cries of the tortured. His family annually participated in the purge, and deeply revered it, which Sirius found to be a load of bull. For all Sirius knew, they got wealthier the more people were murdered.

So he burrowed further into his warm quilt, trying to forget that meters away, his parents are more likely sharpening knives, like the deranged villians they were.

 

At the same time the Siren sounded, frantic knocks came from his door. As he often did, he ignored it. But then a voice he hadn't heard directed at him since he was eleven yelled from the hall, and promptly told him to get his ass up.

"Oh fuck off!" Sirius shouted back, bubbling anger getting over him first before any rational thought.

"Sirius, please, it's urgent!” His brother nearly pleaded, and Sirius stood up so fast, he became dizzy. His eyebrows knitted, apprehension tugging at him. As unpredictable the night was, anything could happen.

“Reg, you better not be trying to kill me.” Sirius hesitantly swung the door open, and on the other side was his brother, tense with alarm.

“No, but they are-” Regulus rigidly pointed downstairs, “and soon-you have to move.” 

“Fuck.” Sirius felt his pulse at his temple, and his hand tremble.

Sirius nearly hit Regulus upside the head for telling him too late about their parents plans, late enough that he was already hearing their parents’ cackles as they merrily drank, and gunshots from down the street. He had to get away fast, and going downstairs wasn’t an option; for all he knew his father had a gun at the ready. His hand had sifted through his hair when he realized he was shaking, the weight of fear settled deep into his gut. He had to get on the streets, a place far more safer than Grimmauld. Out there, his survival rate would be ridiculously low, but at least he had a chance at living. Here, he had none. He cursed his parents for having too much surveillance cameras. 

His brother looked at him with apprehension, probably thinking the same things. A deep frown settled on his face, and settling wrinkles that both look foreign, but familiar. How had Sirius not properly looked at his brother, he didn’t know.

“I have a baseball in my room.” Regulus broke the silence. With that, Reg hurriedly, although quietly ran to his room. That settled it. Sirius was breaking out at the dawn of the Purge.

His eyes frantically scanned around his room, looking around for possible weapons, as he got dressed in something warmer. The weather was getting better, but if his worst case scenario was being chased for all twelve hours by maniacs, he thought he might as well be prepared. 

Digging through his closet, he found his school chest, which he filled with marked papers and essays the previous summer, so as to hide the handgun he and james bought two summers ago. Gun control got lousy, and no one ever checked. As he tucked the pistol in his waistband, and grabbed an extra box of bullets to put in his coat, he made a mental note to thank James leading the idea of self-preservation, if he ever makes it out till sunrise. But of course, that kind of thinking will lead him to nowhere. So he attempts to calm himself by thinking of ways to live. Which wasn’t really helping, but still.

He had to get to James’. He knew they barricaded their house, just like his’. Surely they’d let him in. The only problem would be the thirty minute walk in between. Which was a pretty big problem, in retrospect.

He continued to gather things he might need, but he wasn’t really sure because he didn’t think he’d ever be dumb enough to roam the streets, alone and unprepared. The first, and only time he went out was part his, James’, and Peter’s own curiosity. The other part was that they went out to break into Hogwarts and vandalize the slytherins’ lockers, and maybe steal a few things to scatter around campus.

Of course, It was terrifying-and foolish, but they were able to stay in the shadows. By that meaning, they hid themselves in the vents of the school, and remained there until it was safe. Hogwarts was protected, and it was nothing compared to what he was getting himself into.

He looked down at his rucksack, which contained a couple of bandages. He was useless at this. He felt his hands shaking.

Reg ran back to his room, carrying a dark, wooden bat in his left, and a stout-looking sack that was tied at the mouth. He was panting.

“Sirius, I heard them walking, you have to leave.” Before he could ask what it was, Regulus shoved the bag in his hand, the bat in the other, then snatched the bag Sirius was holding. 

“What the fu- this is everything you’ve packed?” His brother, looked incredulous, and Sirius could almost laugh, but then they both heard voices, nearer than they were minutes ago. Panicked, Regulus grabbed the bandages, and put them in Sirius’ coat pocket for him. 

“Fucking move,” Regulus whisper-yelled, pushing his brother to the barricaded window. 

“Alrightalright, fuck,” Sirius unlocked the bulletproof metal, and slid it up. The cool night breeze entered his room. The street below was dark, save for the orange glow of the streetlights, and the faint light of the moon. From the seemingly deserted street, the brightness of his room probably stood out. He had to leave, fast, before anyone saw.

He crouched on his ledge, the weight of what he was about to do settling on his stomach. Before he could jump onto the tree nearest his window-the one he frequented whenever he snuck out-he turned back to his brother, all dark, rumpled hair and creased pajamas, expression hard as stone, his eyes seemingly wet.

Before he never got to do it again, and before he might possibly have a tragic death-painless, he hoped-Sirius pulled the other boy by the shoulder, and held him tight.

“I’ll see you soon.” Sirius hoped his gratitude was already shown through the embrace, and that his brother knew how to translate body language, because he couldn’t, for the life of him, say the words out loud. Or lest he cry.

He pressed his lips lightly on the top of his brother’s head, like he used to do when Regulus was afraid.

“Close the window up after I’m gone, and lock your door,” Sirius felt Regulus nod against his neck. 

He turned around, and carefully leaped.


End file.
